The Loss of the Ring
by Entwife
Summary: What happens to Frodo while he is in Cirith Ungol? We don't know. This is my theory on what happened. Nonslash. Complete.
1. The Sting

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the following characters or places; they belong to the estate of J. R. R. Tolkien.  
  
Frodo Baggins was running from grave peril into graver peril. He had finally escaped that monster and was running tword the end of the tunnel. He heard Sam calling out from behind him: "Behind. Master! I'm," but the sound of Sam's voice was cut off. He looked to see what it was Sam was yelling about, but before he had spun even halfway around, he felt a sharp sting and knew no more. 


	2. The Memory

Disclaimer: Again, I don't own any of the following characters or places; they belong to the estate of J. R. R. Tolkien.  
  
A/N Sorry about the really short 1st chapter, I got so excited and wanted to post right away! Here's chapter 2!  
  
Frodo woke up later, dazed. He felt a burning liquid being poured down his throat. He noticed he was lying on a bed of hard stone, granite or marble. He leaned over and his stomach, feeling the last results of Shelob's poison, emptied itself upon the floor. It was then that he noticed the orcs that surrounded him, but they were keeping their distance, as if they were afraid he might harm them. He made up his mind to draw his sword and go down fighting, but he noticed that Sting was no longer by his side. He checked the place at his neck, and feeling no lump where the Ring should be, he realized that he had been plundered while in his death-like sleep. At that point he almost gave up hope, but a part of the old Frodo was wakened. He assumed Sam was in another room, much like this one, but if Sam HAD escaped there was still hope that the quest had not yet failed. One of the orcs began to speak, and Frodo started listening. "The prisoner is awake!" it exclaimed. "What should we do with it?"  
  
One orc, much larger than Frodo, but slightly smaller than the others replied, " Let's eat it; we haven't had fresh, sweet meat in a while."  
  
Another of the same stature responded, "And how shall we divide it? I assume those of the tower guard will get the sweetest, tastiest parts."  
  
One of the larger orcs reprimanded them, "The Master told us to question all captives before disposing of them."  
  
"And who will get the reward for the capture?" the first orc said. "We had as much a part of it as you had, and you will take all the rewards." The largest of the bunch quickly slew the speaker. Frodo wondered what was going on, and why he understood their foul language. Perhaps it was a lingering effect of the Ring, to be able to understand the language it was created under.  
  
The orcs continued their arguing until one orc (probably smarter than average, but still incredibly stupid) lifted Frodo under his arm and carried him to the highest tower and deposited him there with the supplies that had not been plundered (namely, lembas). "Don't leave or speak, or we will feast on flesh tonight!" the orc grinned evilly. He then proceeded to go down the trapdoor and, as Frodo gathered from the scraping noises, removed the ladder.  
  
Frodo, alone with his thoughts, pondered what had happened. He hoped that Sam had somehow survived, that the Nameless Enemy had not gotten the Ring. His fitful thoughts turned into unpleasant dreams. He dreamt of his last night with his parents. How his mother, dressed in her finest dress, wearing her most beautiful jewelry, smelling of the sweetest perfume, and his father, dressed in his best suit, had gone out with him, a young lad, for his first trip down river. He remembered the large rock that tore a hole in the small craft, and his father giving him the bundle of cloths, the only flotation device they had had.  
  
Frodo realized he was weeping. Then he was screaming as he felt the pain of a barbed whip bite into his back. "I thought I told you to keep quiet! There is an Elvish warrior loose, and if you cry out for help, you will wish that you were only being whipped." He bared his teeth and emitted a sound that, had a human made it, would have resembled a laugh. The orc set a bowl of stagnant water beside a bowl of spoiled meat and rotten bread. "Eat up, dinner's served," the orc said as he disappeared down the trapdoor.  
  
A/N: I'll try to get the next chapter up tomorrow; look for it then! 


	3. The Torture

Disclaimer: I still don't own ANYTHING (Well, actually I do own the plot, but that's about it.)  
  
A/N: Thank you so much for reviewing! I am glad you like my story, so here's more!  
  
Frodo was disgusted at what he was told to eat. He attempted some water and, not wishing to eat something that could have once been human, avoided the meat. He couldn't get his teeth into the bread: it was hard as stone. He nibbled some lembas and, wishing he could be someplace else, fell into a dreamless sleep.  
  
He woke up in a room much like the first one. This time, however, he was chained to the stone. He correctly assumed that this was a torture chamber. What he didn't know was that this was the very room where Gollum betrayed him and spoke his name.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The orc, remembering the wretched creature Gollum, decided that he would do the same to this captive that was about the same stature. He would first question, and if there wasn't a sufficient answer to his questions, he would move the captive to an instrument he fondly called "The Stretcher." It consisted of two wheels; each had a place for the wrists or ankles to be bound to it. It started out in a semi-comfortable position with the captive not being stretched at all. As time progressed and the captive didn't give sufficient answers, the wheels were turned in opposite directions. There were also places on the wall where a captive could be hung from his wrists until he gave in, although that wasn't as fun as taking a red-hot poker from the fire and blistering the captive's skin with it. There was also the usual whip to remind the captive that he was in charge.  
  
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Frodo looked around at the various instruments of torture. He was more afraid that he would accidentally disclose some information that would bring about the ruin of them all than of physical pain. Nothing was as bad as the pain he had received from the cursed Morgul blade. He waited for the orc to speak. It said, in a distorted version of the Common Tongue, "What business do you have in Mordor?"  
  
Frodo answered as he had in Bree, those many long weeks before, "m.my business is my own."  
  
"Incompetent fool!" the orc exclaimed. "Would you rather agree or be tortured?"  
  
Frodo decided not to answer that question. It would hurt him no matter which answer he chose; he would be tortured no matter what and he didn't want to agree. He finally noticed that the orc carried a whip and that he wouldn't be afraid to use it.  
  
The orc asked again, "What business do you have in Mordor?"  
  
Frodo decided to answer as truthfully as he could: "I was led here by Smeagol- Gollum. He promised me a safe way in. I.I," his voice faltered as his imagination ran dry.  
  
"We'll get the truth out of you soon enough," the orc responded. He then proceeded to untie Frodo and place him on "The Stretcher." "Perhaps a few hours on this will help to loose your tongue." He started to slowly turn the wheels apart until Frodo screamed.  
  
"I was supposed to help him slay the creature! Shelob, he called it. We were to take over her den and take her place. At the last possible moment he deserted me and I knew that he had never really meant anything except to get it a new meal."  
  
"Well, well," the orc said, "some truth at last, although I feel you are not telling me all." He proceeded to turn the wheels even farther apart.  
  
"Stop! Stop, I beg of you," Frodo screeched, "I will tell all!"  
  
A/N: Hee hee hee I know I'm evil! Please R/R on what you think of it so far. Is the orc convincing? Are Frodo's responses logical? Help me out!!!!!  
  
(The line of ~s indicates a change of perspective if you didn't already know that ^.^) 


	4. The widowmaker

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING well the plot is mine and so is the torture chamber. Everything else belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien.  
  
A/N: I am really enjoying my reviews- keep 'em coming. This is the longest chapter so far and will probably be the longest chapter in the entire story. The first part is from the orc's point of view. Enjoy!  
  
The captive began speaking in a faltering voice. "I.I mean I-" The orc cut him off.  
  
"Get along with it, we don't have all day," he said waving the whip threateningly inches from the prisoner's face, "How did you meet Gollum and when?"  
  
"A. about a week ago," came the reply. "I was lost and Gollum promised to help me if I would help him first."  
  
Finally he was getting somewhere. "What did you need help in?"  
  
"I was planning on spying out the land and-" the orc had gotten too excited and was turning the wheels, causing the prisoner to gasp and almost pass out. He mumbled a quick 'sorry' that he hoped wasn't understood and returned the prisoner *almost* to the place he had started from. The captive continued.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Frodo hoped his story worked. He had been stretched to the point of death but had been apologized to. He wondered why he got an apology. Perhaps it was because the orc felt he was getting somewhere, though this particular orc couldn't be the brightest, considering he was telling complete and utter lies.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"And," the prisoner caught his breath, "reporting back to my master."  
  
"Whom do you serve?" the orc questioned. He hoped that his captive was as stupid as he made out to be. That would aid greatly in the wealth of information he could report to his master. At the same time he wished the captive was smart, but weak so he could test a new device on him. It had been built only last week. He called it the "widow-maker" because it was so horrifying. It was basically a large box carved out of stone with large wooden spikes in it. After ten minutes in it you would be dead or ready to confess. He wasn't sure which.  
  
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Frodo had finally decided on a plan. He would act incompetent and give false answers readily. He was incredibly nervous, so he pretended not to have heard the question and asked to have it repeated.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Just great," the orc thought. I've got a complete imbecile on my hands." He repeated the question slowly, like a stern teacher to a young student who had asked a question one too many times.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Frodo said the first name that popped into his head. "Saruman. I serve Saruman." The orc had a look of bewilderment on his face as Frodo spun his tale, "Master- Saruman- Master Saruman said that, because I was small I wouldn't be spotted. He told me to try to find a way into your land. I was to report back to him. If I didn't I-" he burst into a very convincing wail with false tears.  
  
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The orc was incredibly confused. He had never seen anyone or anything do that before, not even in the presence of his Master. "Stop it! Stop that at once!" he shrieked. The prisoner stopped suddenly. He remained on the verge of tears for the rest of the "interview," but he did not explode again.  
  
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Frodo felt he was acting very well. Every so often the orc spread the wheels farther apart, but, because it was gradual, it was bearable. Frodo gave him any information he might have ever wanted. He told how Saruman had sent him to look for a secret way in, how that if he failed, Saruman would eat his brains for breakfast. At that point the orc had to wave the whip in front of Frodo's face because he had been acting "emotional." He again played up Gollum's part in the entire act. He told how Gollum had known of the place (Cirith Ungol) for a long while. He told of the sticky webs, how they had been slashed apart by someone (or something). That was how he had managed to get so far before he was stung. Finally the orc interjected, "And there were none with you or with this creature, Gollum?"  
  
"No, not that I know of. Gollum was very sneaky." Unfortunately, that was the wrong answer. The orc suddenly turned the wheels apart with lightening speed. Frodo screamed: "Yes, yes! There WAS another, he was of my kind. He was a great friend. We lost him before I got to the end. I assumed he was taken by Shelob-" here his body gave an involuntary shudder "-but it was no great loss. I figured she would enjoy him, that he would keep her occupied until I found a way out. Obviously, my thoughts were wrong." Frodo wondered if the same fate had befallen Sam, being eaten by Shelob.  
  
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The orc was pondering these things in his mind. They would all have to be reported, so it was best that he went over the details in his thoughts before he presented them aloud to his Master. He believed every word of it- in the end it was the eyes that convinced him. They looked so innocent- but they wouldn't be for long. He suddenly realized that there was a flaw- why did Saruman need entrance to Mordor? He decided that this would be the perfect time to put the prisoner in the (duh, duh, duh) "widow-maker."  
  
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As the orc was untying him, Frodo wondered what was happening. Certainly they weren't letting him go? It appeared that they weren't. He was led to a coffin-sized box. He suddenly thought, "They're going to put me in it- what will I do?" He suddenly thought of the Elves. That thought made him feel stronger. As they placed him in the box full of splinters he heard a voice out of the past: "And you, Ringbearer. I come to you last who are not last in my thoughts." Frodo realized that he was in the thoughts of many and that gave him comfort.  
  
The orc asked his question: "What does Saruman want with a secret entrance to Mordor?" He shut the lid, giving Frodo about ten minutes to think. He finally decided that he would tell him that Saruman was looking to infiltrate Mordor, overthrow the Eye, and find Isildur's Bane. He assumed the orc would know what it was that men called Isildur's Bane, but if he gave a faltering look he would call it the Ruling Ring. All this he came up with while lying in a bed of splinters. Perhaps it was the words of Galadriel that strengthened him so, but more likely it was that his body had decided to stop feeling things, especially pain, for the time being. He knew, however, that when he pulled them out, the splinters would hurt and would cause him pain for several more days, if not weeks.  
  
At that point, the orc opened the "widow-maker" and re-asked his question. Frodo gave his prepared answer along with many whimpers and shudders for effect. The orc took his word and had him taken back to his upstairs cell. He was told that he would be back in a few days, and that he must be prepared to answer ANY questions or they would show no mercy.  
  
Frodo was deposited along with another bowl of stagnant water in his "room." He knew not how long he lay, but only that when he woke up, the long de-splintering process began.  
  
A/N: The "widow-maker" is a modified form of what? Be the first to answer correctly and I'll send you a preview of my next chapter. Chapter 5 will *hopefully* be up within the next couple of days. 


	5. Sam's Return

Disclaimer: I still don't anything.  
  
A/N: Congrats to songelf88 and G.H.S. the warg for getting it right! The "widow-maker" is a modified version of the Iron Maiden!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Which is what I belive the "chokey" is based on as well, trishette. Here's chapter 5!  
  
Frodo spent the next day or so in the same conditions. His next bout in the torture chamber slightly addled his brain. The lies, he believed, had been convincing. He uttered hisses and made his voice sound almost like Gollum's. The solitary orc he had been questioned by had brought a few of his friends this time; Frodo's lies became less and less convincing. Eventually they came to the subject of the Ring. They questioned him at great lengths about it. He attempted to feign ignorance, but they knew he knew. A red-hot iron had branded him just between his shoulder blades; it was so red and raw that it was a long time before he could fall into an uneasy sleep.  
  
Frodo's dreams varied. His first was that the Eye itself was questioning him, burning his very flesh. He then returned to the Shire, to his tween years. He thought of Bilbo, and Bilbo's songs. He dreamt he heard a voice singing one of his favorites:  
  
In western lands beneath the Sun  
  
the flowers may rise in Spring,  
  
the trees may bud, the waters run,  
  
the merry finches sing.  
  
Or maybe 'tis cloudless night  
  
and swaying beeches bear  
  
the Elven-stars as jewels white  
  
amid their branching hair.  
  
Though here at journey's end I lie  
  
in darkness buried deep,  
  
beyond all towers strong and high,  
  
beyond all mountains steep,  
  
above all shadows rides the Sun  
  
and Stars for ever dwell:  
  
I will not say the Day is done,  
  
nor bid the Stars farewell.  
  
Frodo tried to sing along as the voice repeated the words, but all he could utter was a squeak. Suddenly he woke up. He didn't know why. Then he realized that an orc was whipping him. He started screaming. He shrank against the far wall as the orc raised the whip to strike a second time- this time it would most certainly fall on his head. But the stroke never fell. What appeared to be a great warrior attacked the beast- it fell to the sword and stumbled down the hole in the floor. The warrior shrank into Sam. Sam! He was overjoyed. He and Sam talked about various things. Frodo could remember very little- the torture had addled his brain until he barely remembered his life outside of prison. He shuddered. "Sam, how did you manage to find me?"  
  
"I'll tell of that later, once we're out of this dreadful place."  
  
Frodo felt his spirits lifting, then he remembered and spoke. "Sam, they've got everything, everything! Do you understand? All I've got left is this rag I'm wearing and a few nibbles of lembas. The quest has failed."  
  
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As Sam heard this, he remembered as well, "Well, Mister Frodo, they haven't got everything. I saved this," he responded and his hand haltingly lifted the Ring out. "It is so heavy; I know not how you bear it."  
  
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Frodo was shocked and pleased. Sam had done his job well, trying to carry on the quest. Suddenly Sam turned into an orc. This had all been a trick! A very convincing one too. They must have known Sam was the only friend he had in these parts. "Give it to me, you filth." Frodo went mad with rage. How dare they taunt him like this? Surprisingly, the orc handed it over without a fight. As the Ring passed hands, a cloud lifted off Frodo's face. He saw Sam's shocked expression. This had been a trick- of the Ring's! "Sam! I'm so sorry. It's this blasted Ring! Before my eyes you turned into an orc and then changed back again. What have I done?"  
  
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"It's all right, Mr. Frodo. I knew you didn't mean it," Sam replied as he wiped a tear from his eye. He was bewildered and slightly frightened. Why did his master have to bear this burden anyway? The answer came at once. He appointed himself.  
  
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Sam was frightened. Frodo could tell just by looking at his hands. They were shaking, but then the stopped, as though Sam had resolved something. Sam quickly changed the subject. "Why, Mister Frodo, we've got to find you some clothes." Sam disappeared down the trapdoor, saying, "I'll call a password- Elbereth."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Soon Frodo heard "Elbereth, Elbereth!" and opened the door. Sam came up. He brought back some clothes- orc clothes. Frodo was disgusted, but they would have to do. He put them on. Sam threw a cloak about Frodo, and another about himself. Now they looked like a pair of orcs. They each had a nibble of lembas, and climbed down the ladder.  
  
A/N: That's it! I'll post another chapter soon. *hopefully* it will be up later tonight, or early tomorrow. 


	6. The Loss of the Ring

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters or places, and now I don't own most of the PLOT!  
  
A/N: I'll be skipping some things, so every time you see a ~*~*~*~, that indicates I've skipped something.  
  
Sam tried to return Frodo's things, but Frodo would not have it so. "No, Sam, you keep them safe for me. I have barely enough strength to lift my head, let alone wield a sword or the Lady's gift."  
  
Sam and Frodo each picked up a shield, and so completed their orcish disguise. Sam led the way down a staircase. They avoided the orc bodies at the foot of the staircase. They started walking tword the arch. Frodo felt the Ring willing him not to pass under the arch. As they drew near it, Frodo's limbs became progressively tired. "Not yet, Mister Frodo, we can rest once we've found some cover inside."  
  
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"Alright, Sam," came the tired response, "let's do it." Sam held the phial aloft and heard a cry: "Glithoniel, A Elbereth!" he then realized that it was his own voice.  
  
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Frodo felt Elvish thoughts overtake his mind. He didn't fight it, these being the first optimistic thoughts he had had for a time. He felt compelled to join Sam, so he did: "Aiya elenion ancalima!" and the Watchers' will was broken.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
As they were marching along on tired feet, Sam heard orcs coming up behind. "Quick!" he whispered, "Hide!" but it was no use.  
  
They watched as countless pairs of orc-feet went by. An orc stopped and yelled at them:  
  
"Get up, you lazy slugs! We've no time for slouching." Sam was relieved. As long as they think we're orcs, he thought, we'll be safe.  
  
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Frodo was thinking something along those lines as he walked with Sam to the back of the ranks. "Not back there!" the slave-driving orc yelled. "Three ranks forward. And so they marched, and marched, and marched. For Frodo it was torment. The Ring was heavy upon its chain, and, as he walked, he felt the whip-wounds reopen. Sam didn't appear to be in as much trouble, although he was surely weary to the bone.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
That night, many orc-companies came together. Frodo and Sam seized their chance and crawled away from the camp.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
A few days later, Frodo was faring even worse, if that was possible. He felt the Ring growing on his mind. It was growing heavier as the days wore on. Offering to help, Sam asked if he could carry the Ring for Frodo. Frodo felt the same veil draw over his eyes that had clouded his vision in Cirith Ungol. He tried to fight it, but a voice that was, yet wasn't, his own answered: "Do not touch me! It is mine, I tell you, mine!" He quickly apologized.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Several days later, they had reached Mount Doom. They began crawling up its slope. Suddenly, Gollum came upon them. "Give it to ussssssssssss," he hissed. Frodo stood and said, "Begone, and trouble me no more!"  
  
Sam replied: "I'll hold him! Go, finish your task!" and Frodo again began crawling up the mountain.  
  
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Frodo was amazed that his task was almost done. This was what he had been assigned. He was happy, and yet sad, in a way. The Ring was almost a part of him and he hated to let it go.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Frodo stood in the very cracks of Mount Doom. Sam came up and said "Master!" but Frodo did not hear him.  
  
In a voice that was his, but not his own, Frodo declared: "I have come, but I will not do the appointed task. The Ring is mine!" He slipped the Ring on his finger and proceeded to walk away from Sam. Then, in the wraith-world, he saw a small figure. "Gollum," he thought, "I should have dealt with him long ago. Now is my chance."  
  
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Sam watched his master's spirit leave its body, and another come to take its place. He heard the words that came from his master's mouth, and yet, were not his master's. He screamed, "No! Mr. Frodo, don't give in!" but it was too late. Mr. Frodo's spirit could hear him no longer.  
  
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Gollum was very pleased with himself. He had managed to outwit the stupid hobbit. He lived half in the wraith world, and so could make out Frodo's shape, with the Ring on his right middle finger. "Now is the chance to reclaim your precious, "he thought. "I will do it!" and he began fighting with Frodo.  
  
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Frodo saw Gollum, of course, but he didn't know Gollum could see him. "I am safe, "he thought. Gollum walked up and grabbed his hand. Frodo pulled it away quickly, but not quickly enough. Gollum had his finger in his mouth. He bit down and severed the finger from the hand. Frodo screamed; Gollum danced.  
  
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"It is mine again," Gollum thought. "The precious is mine, I will never lose it, oh no precious." He danced, and exclaimed thoughts like these aloud. He walked backwards, and without noticing, placed his foot on a weak outcropping of rock that crumbled. His last words were "Nooooooo! Precioussssssssss!"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Mister Frodo!" Frodo heard his name being called through the mists. His hand was bleeding, it wouldn't stop, but the Ring was gone. Frodo felt the weight lift off his shoulders. "Sam," he responded, "Let's go home."  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: That's it! That's the last chapter. I hope you enjoyed it! Please R/R! 


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